


A Little Cowboy Goes A Long Way

by JIN (mockingbird)



Category: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-18
Updated: 2012-07-18
Packaged: 2017-11-10 06:27:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/463219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mockingbird/pseuds/JIN
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Heard this quote on HGTV (by Ronnie Dunn) and it was just too good to pass up!</p>
    </blockquote>





	A Little Cowboy Goes A Long Way

**Author's Note:**

> Heard this quote on HGTV (by Ronnie Dunn) and it was just too good to pass up!

Alright. That was it. He’d had enough. Chris stormed out of the office, slamming the door on the sounds of his friends’ obnoxious guffawing. Twenty minutes later, he pulled in to the parking lot of the Rocky Mountain Clothing Company.

It didn’t take long. His eyes were immediately drawn to one color. Right cut, right fit, and when Chris turned and looked at himself in the mirror, he nodded with satisfaction. He had to admit, it was a good look for him. Tight black jeans, black shirt, black boots - with spurs, no less, and wasn’t that a masterful touch? 

And now, all he needed was a . . .

“I think this one will suit you, Mr. Larabee,” the young salesman said, handing him the most stunning specimen Chris had ever laid eyes on.

As he placed the black hat ringed with a braided leather band on his head, Chris turned back to the young man and shot him his best Clint Eastwood glare. 

Was it his imagination, or did the kid actually shrink back a bit?

He turned to the mirror again. Damn. It was perfect. A Hollywood costume designer couldn’t have dressed him any better.

“How about one of these, Mr. Larabee?” the kid spoke again, holding up a pale green bandana. “You tie it around your neck to - you know, to keep the dust and - and stuff out.”

Chris narrowed his eyes and thought on it, but finally shook his head. “No thanks.” Wasn’t his style. 

Vin might look nice in something like that, though. He could picture Tanner decked out in tan leather with a colorful neckerchief - a nice blue or maybe a red one. He shook his head at the direction his thoughts were taking, and fifteen minutes later, he left the store with a lighter step and an even lighter wallet.

If Tanner and his friends wanted a cowboy, that’s exactly what they would get.

+++++++

“Hot damn,” Buck breathed. “You are a stud, Stud! Hell, I might finally have me a bit of competition around here.”

“Hopefully the color is not a reflection of your mood,” Ezra muttered.

JD was still circling his team leader, his mouth gaping as he stuttered in awe, “Wow. This is so - so cool. You look like - like a real cowboy, Chris. Wow.”

“Those damn spurs are gonna cut somebody!” Nathan bellowed. “See if they don’t. And don’t come cryin’ t’ me when that happens.”

Josiah stood and cocked his head as he peered at Chris through narrowed eyes. “You remind me of someone from an old western. Tombstone, maybe? No, that’s not it. For some reason, I’m channeling Yul Brynner . . .”

Chris ignored them and headed for his office, trying to hide his disappointment that Vin was’t there for his grand entrance. He needn’t have worried, though, because before he hit the door, Tanner appeared.

Vin came from the break room, his perpetual cup of coffee glued to his hand, and he nearly tripped over his own two feet when he got a look at his boss. In fact, he stumbled so badly that hot coffee sloshed out of the cup and onto his hand. “Ouch! Damn! Shit, Larabee! What the hell . . . ?”

Ezra raised a brow. “Seven words and three of them obscenities - that might be a record, even for you, Mr. Tanner.”

“Did you burn yourself?” Nathan asked, jumping to his feet. “How many times have a I told you not to fill your cup to the brim? Ain’t like you gotta travel down the street t’ get more!”

But Vin was still staring at Chris, his square jaw hanging loose and his eyes wide. “Damn,” he said again.

“Boys,” Chris said, tipping his hat with a single finger before disappearing into his office. 

As he closed the door behind him, he heard the muffled voices of his friends, and his grin widened. 

Yep, they got themselves a cowboy.

+++++++

“I’m so sorry to bother you, Mr. Larabee, but uh, I really need your signature on this today. I mean, AD Travis does. Well, I mean . . .”

Joyce Jones, Orrin Travis’ personal administrative assistant, was stumbling all over herself, and Chris wasn’t fooled for a minute. The woman could easily have sent the paperwork up through the interoffice mail system, but word had obviously gotten out about his attire. In fact, no less than five women in various positions in the agency had managed to find an excuse to come to his office. 

Buck had to be positively green by now. 

The thought brought Chris such deep satisfaction, that he was a tad disgusted with himself. After all, he’d never thought about competing with Buck. Never cared how many women his friend enticed. Never really noticed, in fact. But Wilmington had gotten a great deal of satisfaction out of Tanner’s ongoing determination to label him, “Cowboy”. So yeah, Buck deserved to sweat it out. 

And, in truth, the attention was kind of nice. 

Well, mostly. It was a little strange when Mike Mills from Team Three sat on the edge of his desk and suggested the two of them “explore the wild west” together. And he could have sworn that weird guy from the mail room was angling to get a look at his butt when he delivered a package that afternoon. 

It seemed everyone wanted to gawk - except Tanner, the man who had pushed him to the edge and the man he most wanted to annoy. 

It had started three months ago. They were trying - and failing - to get evidence against a major arms dealer, Lucas James, when they ran into a deal gone wrong involving James’ nephew. Chris would never forget how the punk looked at him and said, “This ain’t your fight, Cowboy.”

Cowboy? What the hell?

It irritated the snot out of him - a fact he, unfortunately, failed to hide from his teammates. So of course, Vin would run with it. Every chance he got . . . “Join y’ for a drink, Cowboy?” “Got any plans this weekend, Cowboy?” “Hey, Cowboy, got a lead on that case.” 

And then the gifts started coming. Cowboy figurines, cowboy paperweights, cowboy coasters, cowboy bookends . . . his office was beginning to look like the set of a cheesy western. 

Not that that was all bad. He liked westerns well enough. Liked horses even better. And there was something sort of macho and manly about the cowboy of the old west. 

But a little cowboy went a long way. It was time to get off the saddle and back to the real world. His world. His ATF world. Where Chris Larabee was a take-no-prisoners, bad-ass law enforcement official. Not a cowboy dressed in black sitting with his boots propped up on his desk. 

Those were some nice looking spurs, though.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Chris snapped to attention, snagging his spurs on the leather desk mat as he pulled his boots off his desk and stumbled to his feet. 

“Nothing, Orrin - uh, Sir. Just - just - thinking about that bust we have planned for later this week.”

“Lose the hat - for starters.”

Chris swallowed and did as he was told, but to his surprise, he didn’t really want to. It was amazing how quickly a man could get used to wearing a fine looking cowboy hat.

“Do you have any idea how much commotion you’re causing around here, Larabee?”

Uh - oh. Must be a lot, considering Orrin never called him by his last name. Not even when his team did something completely against the regulations. Not even that time when they managed to total not one, but three company vehicles. Not even that time when Vin and Buck talked him into -

“Chris? Are you listening to me? Did you hear a word I said?” Travis was clearly agitated now. Or more agitated. 

“Yes, Sir.”

“Then answer the question.”

“The question?”

Travis rolled his eyes. “My secretary -”

“Administrative Assistant,” Chris corrected the man before he could stop himself.

Travis rolled his eyes again. “Joyce came back from your office so flustered that she deleted half my messages before I’d had a chance to answer them. Then I found her in the break room, huddled with no less than six other women. Do you know what they were doing?”

“No, I - I don’t know, Sir.”

“They were plotting to pull the fire alarm - just to get you out of your office!” 

Chris felt the heat rising up his neck to fill his face. “Oh - well - uh -”

“Now I don’t know your reason for breaking dress code -”

“Dress code?” Chris interrupted again. His men had never adhered to any dress code, as Travis well knew. Apparently Tanner’s shoulder-length hair, Sanchez’ ridiculous 1960 poncho, and Wilmington’s tasteless Def Leppard t-shirts were more acceptable than a simple black ensemble. That was hardly fair, he thought.

“Yes, Chris, we do have a dress code. And it does not include cowboy hats and spurs. And just how did you manage to get those spurs past security?”

Chris was about to answer that all it took was the business card of the young salesman at the Rocky Mountain Clothing Company, when the fire alarm suddenly sounded.

+++++++

“Well, you’ve had quite a day, eh, Cowboy?”

The smile on Vin’s face was barely there, but his eyes were positively dancing. 

Chris grinned in return. “Who knew cowboys were so popular?”

Vin dipped his head but Chris made out a tell-tale dimple when his friend replied softly, “You ain’t just any cowboy, Cowboy.”

Chris blushed. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost think Vin was flirting with him. But then, half the employees in the building - more than half - had been flirting with him all day. There was something about a cowboy, apparently.

“I’m heading out to the ranch. Thought I’d take a nice, long ride since I’m dressed for the part. Care t’ join me?” he asked Vin.

This time Vin’s cheeks colored when he asked, “You - uh - you reckon we could stop by that cowboy store first?”

“We could.” Although Chris had a feeling they’d have to stand in line with half of Denver’s ATF. “What do you have in mind?”

Vin shrugged. “Kinda like them spurs. Wouldn’t mind a new hat.”

“Yeah? You might like a red shirt I saw there, too. In fact, I bought something that would go with it.” Chris opened his drawer and pulled out a red paisley neckerchief.

Vin took it from his hands with a puzzled frown. “This don’t seem like your style, Chris.”

“It’s not. I bought it for you.”

“You did?”

Chris nodded. But when Vin looked at him far too seriously, he added, “It’s nothing, really. I just thought - you know - it would keep the dust and - and stuff out when you’re riding.”

Vin smiled so sweetly that, for the first time, Chris had an inkling why Tanner didn’t have to wear a cowboy outfit for the women in the office to line up to do things for him.

“Come on. Let’s head out,” he said, snagging Vin by the arm.

“Alright. But you do know you didn’t help the situation, right? You done branded yourself a cowboy for life.”

Chris smiled and shrugged. “I imagine so. But maybe that’s not so bad.” 

This day had proven that there were some definite benefits to this cowboy business, after all. He thought again about Vin’s reaction when he first saw him in his cowboy get-up - those wide blue eyes and that breathy, “Damn.” And it occurred to him that Lucas’ nephew might have done him a favor that day when he called him a cowboy. 

A little cowboy just might go a helluva long way. 

The End


End file.
